Before the wedding, Abigail thought it would never come. During the wedding, she thought it would never finish. And now that her brother had successfully married, she was glad it was finally over. Her feet had never been so sore in her life and she wasn't even running that much. Now that the wedding was done, all she wanted was a good night's rest to replenish the energy of a 16-hour shift.
So then why did this girl wake up in the middle of the night to check on the flowers? There was nothing she could do for them. Maybe she wanted to relive her most accomplished work one last time before they take it all down tomorrow. Or maybe she wanted to see it under the night sky. It was a different feeling with the moon than during the day.
As she made her way back to her room afterward, she heard shuffling noises coming from the grand staircase. It sounded like someone was grunting or something.
Wearing a t-shirt and shorts, her delicate skin crawled with goosebumps from the distant cold. She decided to check out the noise. Penrose Manor was dimmed at night with security on each floor, but strangely it didn't sound like a threat. When she arrived, the turn around the wall revealed a man slumped at the bottom of the stairs. She recognized the suit and autumn orange hair.
Abigail debated on what to do next. Clearly, he was so drunk he could barely make it up the stairs. Why didn't he take the elevator? Had he lost his sense of directions as well?
Obviously, she couldn't possibly leave him out here. It was still her duty as a maid to take care of her master.
Abigail barely swore but this time she did. Very quietly and in her head. She was starting to regret getting out of bed.
She put one of his arms around her small frame and they wobbled to the elevator closest to his wing. A few moments later, the lift dinged, and the doors opened to the fourth level. He was heavy as he put his weight on her. They still got a long way before reaching his bedroom. Abigail tried her best but he was too unstable, bumping into the walls and forcing her to become imbalanced.
"Hey, you."
She heard him in a low voice. She turned her head to see sleepy eyes and a smirk. Just a few more rooms, she thought and continued to remain silent, leading the way as best as she could.
The next thing she felt was his large hand on her breast. She gasped and pushed him as hard as she could against a wall. His laughter was both a cough and a chuckle.
Indecent bastard, she mouthed.
Lucas slouched down into a sitting position but was unable to get himself up. She couldn't tell if he was out or not.
There was no way for her to continue to treat him kindly if he kept doing this to her. Many thoughts crossed her mind but she wasn't sure on how to decide. She paced back and forth, not knowing what to do. She could leave him and let him fend for himself, or she could finish the job and let him molest her.
Finally, she decided to leave. Leaving was the best option at the moment. She had no idea what he would do to her if they got to the bedroom and she couldn't risk it. So leaving to go ask John for help was better than her being alone.
A few minutes later, John was standing in front of Lucas in his pj's, shaking his head.
"Son-of-a-bitch looks more than dead."
She shushed her brother, reminding him that he could still hear them. She had not mentioned what happened earlier.
"Come on, let's get this bastard to bed.
John put Lucas's arm around his shoulders but he was not as gentle as Abigail. The job was to get him to bed, not how or when, even if it means dragging him a bit with force. Abigail swung open the doors to his sleeping quarters in time for her brother's haste and John practically threw him on the bed without much thought.
"Your whole being irritates me," he dared to comment afterward.
Abigail pinched him to be careful with his mouth.
"I'm sorry you think that way," Lucas grunted. They both had thought he was unconscious, but he pulled himself up and sat in bed, rubbing his temples.
"I told you he might still hear you," she whispered to her heated brother.
Lucas stood up and found John with his blurry eyes. His brows narrowed.
"Why don't you square up and fight me like when we were boys?"
When he finished, he shoved John but it was sloppy. John growled and step forward but Agibail held him back.
"No! He's drunk, John.
If the brother could forget the status of Master and servant, he would gladly knock the teeth out of this arrogant jerk. Why couldn't he sit his ass in New York?
Lucas heard her pleasant, calm voice and now gave his attention to her.
"Little, sweet Agibail…"
He didn't know what to say after that. She turned around to hear what he had to say about her, but he never did. He just kept looking at her, his mouth half open and his chest heaving. A minute went by and the three of them stood there in silence.
Suddenly, Lucas grabbed her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his.
Abigail froze in shock. Her eyes went large. She didn't know what was going on. Was she still dreaming? Could she have been in bed this whole time? There was no way the Young Master could be pressing his lips hard onto hers right now.
By the time she came to it, he had opened her mouth and plunged his tongue down her throat. She could taste the alcohol on his breath. Taste the sweetness and bitterness of his tongue as it ravished her in lustful explosions. His hands caressed her face. His lips sucking her lifeforce as if without her, he could not live.
She grabbed his hands, meaning to peel them away but she no longer had the energy. Her body had turned to mush and she could collapse at any moment.
As soon as it happened, it also ended quickly. John forced the man off his sister and threw a hard punch that landed precisely on his jaw.
Lucas became sober right away and realized what he had done. He fell back on his bed and burst into a maniac laughter. Abigail saw the bright blood on his lip and that was when she snapped out of her daze. She grabbed her brother's arm before any more damage could be done.
"I'll cut your fucking hands off!" John was beyond furious.
"No, John. Please let's just go. Please!"
Tears were starting to come out of her. She was shaking. She did not want to stay here any longer. She wanted out now. And he understood that.
He grabbed her hand and raced her out of there faster than anything. They took the stairs. Screw the elevator. He didn't let go of her and only held her hand tighter, being careful not to pull too much. They didn't stop until they arrived inside her bedroom. She was already in tears and trembling.
"Hey." He held her head in his hands. His fingers clearing the hair away from her wet cheeks. The trauma was still there and he hated himself for it. "He will never lay a finger on you again. Ok? You're fine. I'm here." He couldn't help but embraced her in a long hug. "I'm here."
When John finally returned to his chamber, he was a wreck. And Claire saw it too in his tousled hair and sunken eyes.
"What happened?" She walked up to him.
His face was somewhere between sheer horror and pure rage, unable to blink or move. Claire shook him a few times to get him to notice her.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she teased, but when she didn't get the response she expected, she became somber. "Ok, are you going to tell me or not? What happened to you?"
He finally turn to her. His eyes were hollow and blank
"If I tell you, you must swear never to tell anyone," he answered. She looked at him quizzically. "We're married now, and we should not keep secrets. Actually-- it's not my secret but we should have trust."
"Baby, what are you talking about?" She brought him to the bed, afraid he was going to need to sit with whatever he had to say.
John looked at his wife with a clenched jaw and intense hazel eyes. His nose flared.
"I have something deep down I have never told anyone. Promise me you'll never tell." She kissed him on the lips as a seal. "Now promise me you'll never let Abigail know that you know."
She cocked her head, confused at this second bit. After a few blinks, she nodded. John took a deep breath and faced her. He took both her hands in his and squeezed.
"Three years ago, Abigail witnessed a murder here at Penrose. The murderer, Lucas Barrington. The victim, we never found the body. But she swore she saw it, and I believe her."
"You believed her?" Claire questioned, but she didn't mean to sound skeptical.
"I do. I really do because that's just the type of guy Lucas is." He paused to prepare himself for the next bit. "And then that night… that night he climbed into her bed and attempted to r*** her. She was only fifteen."
Claire knew why he had to hold her hand as he told her this. She was squeezing him hard with shock. His voice shook and broke some more.
"He-- he couldn't go through with it because Abigail was afraid, so she had me sleep on her sofa. I was able to intercept. God knows what would've happened if I wasn't there. Oh god--"
She cut him off and hugged him. She could sense that he blamed himself immensely for all of this. He didn't have to finish his sentence for her to know how much he loved his sister and hated himself. She pulled away to ask him a question.
"Why are you telling me this?"
He had become much more stable and told her what happened just a few minutes ago.
"Abigail was traumatized after that incident. Our Father and Sir Barrington knew nothing of it. She was terrified and absolute he would do much worse to her if we tell. But by some miracle, he left the next few days for New York and she had never seen him again until he returned for our wedding. I'm telling you this because whatever you do, never leave Abigail alone in a room with him."
Claire shook her head as if all of this couldn't possibly be real. But then again, she'd heard of the Barrington as the wealthiest family in the entire nation. They were the biggest sponsor of the police and the military, so if Lucas was to kill someone in his own house, what could anyone do? He was untouchable. He was the law.
"How can we help her, John? We can't leave her alone in this house. We're leaving for our honeymoon first thing tomorrow morning." Claire was terrified for her sister-in-law. She was lucky to barely have any contact with him, but she couldn't say the same about Abigail.
"I heard he's got a complicated business contract and had to return to America immediately. He should be gone right after us."
Claire breathed relief, but she hadn't fully allowed herself to be relaxed yet. She would be living with the Barringtons now. She was free to continue with her art career but eventually, she would have to learn all the rules of Penrose Manor. The next lineage to Head Butler was John and she would become Head of Housekeeping. It was the price she had to pay for marrying a Campbell.
And that would mean having to deal with Lucas Barrington.
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